


another wizarding war would be easier than this

by zzzzzzzo



Series: Harry Potter Works, all set in the same universe [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 01:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzzzzzzo/pseuds/zzzzzzzo
Summary: As Draco Malfoy's relationship grows, so too does his parents' insistence that he finds a girl to marry.





	another wizarding war would be easier than this

**Author's Note:**

> this story can work as a stand-alone, but i'd recommend you'd read the other two drarry stories preceding this. if nothing else, just because they're cute! you can find them [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5747149) and [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11151381)

You’d think that I’d brood less after getting a boyfriend, wouldn’t you? I should just skip about the halls and smile at all I pass and secrete rainbows so hard I stain the ancient stone walls. And, not gonna lie, I have been doing that these past few weeks... to some degree. When Harry tugs me into an abandoned classroom and mutters that missing one Charms lesson couldn’t hurt, or when Harry sneaks into my dorm at night under the Invisibility Cloak to whisper together for hours, or when Harry… well, you get the idea. Notice a trend? And it’s true, those moments with him  _ are _ great, and the time Goyle and I spend gradually getting to know each other properly is nice, and warming up to Weasley and Granger is, too, albeit slightly awkward. 

Still, the sulking is most certainly still occurring in moments I’m alone, and it’s stronger than ever. I’m eighteen now, so the subject of marriage is coming up more and more often in my parents’ letters. Frequently they’ll send me photos of pureblood girls, and tell me this and that about them. Every time I give a noncommittal response. I’m not ready to tell them about… Well, any of this. Not yet anyway. Such does the cycle repeat again and again. I can tell they’re getting desperate. Lately, I’m recognizing my own features in the faces of girls they send me. My thin nose on one, my pale, angular eyes on another. I had to burn those ones. I couldn’t stand to see small pieces of my own face watching me, silently urging me to carry on the Malfoy line whatever it takes.

And that leads us to today. Today, where my father dropped all pretenses of ‘just thinking you might like to meet her!’ and flat out acknowledged he’d like for me to consider marriage soon. I can’t beat around the bush much longer, but still I manage to persist in denial. I don’t talk to Harry about any of this. I glance out the window now, where I can see him practising Quidditch with his team. The Weasley girl, Ginny, says something and he laughs boisterously, not a care in the world. The last thing I’d like to do is place the burden of these unfillable expectations upon him as well. No, instead I turn from the window and continue to sulk around the school alone. I’m becoming something like the Bloody Baron at this point, with my sullen wandering about and murky glares I occasionally flash others. That thought is discouraging. 

After some time of perusing about aimlessly I decide enough is enough. I may as well sit down to allow my glum thoughts to flourish fully. That in mind, I turn into an empty classroom, and come face to face with my father.

“What the--?” I stop in my tracks, perplexed. He turns his head calmly and fixes his calm gaze upon me. “What are you  _ doing _ here?”

“Never you mind,” he says coolly. His pale eyes seeming to bore straight through me. “Close the door, Draco. We need to talk.” After a moment I oblige, slowly, still with my guard up. 

“Dad? What are you doing here? Did something happen? Is mom--”

“Your mother is just fine. What concerns me, Draco, is you.”

“What--”

“Your relationship with Harry Potter, more specifically,” he finishes, and my stomach drops down through the floor. I stare at him, mouth agape. Finally, I manage to speak.

“How did you…”

“Irrelevant. How foolish were you, Draco, to think you could hide such things from me. My own son, the successor to my family line, gay…” His lip curls in disgust. “With the very boy who could have ruined our lives. And a half-blood!” He shakes his head slowly, not yelling, but with an ice cold low voice that’s much, much worse. “Draco… How could you do this to me? And your poor mother… It’s disgraceful.”

“I…” My throat is bone dry. Somehow I manage to cough up words. “I’m sorry, Dad, I…”

“Couldn’t help it?” he snaps, eyes narrowing further. “As if you couldn’t. Don’t think such a poor excuse will suffice!” His voice is rising. With visible effort, he lowers it. “No matter, no matter. Whatever disgusting thing you’ve done is in the past. I can only hope to prevent further incidents. As you well know,” he continues, now in businesslike manner as he draws his wand from his cloak, “there are means of changing one’s ways… Very effective ones. Son, have you ever felt the Cruciatus Curse?”

“What?” And now I’m taking a step back, it’s difficult, I can’t stop shaking and nearly trip. “Dad, no, I… You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am,” he says, dead calm, but with a mad gleam in his eyes. “You agree, son, I’m sure, that necessary measures--”

“Dad, stop!” My yell is a panicked sob now, as I see him raising his wand.

“--must be taken, in some cases. Now, Draco--”

“Please!” The tears escape my eyes, yet still I can’t raise a hand to protect myself.

“--do try to be quiet, I’d rather not have to deal with unnecessary questions…  _ Cruci--” _

The door creaks as it’s opened, and Harry Potter walks in. There’s an extended moment of silence before he speaks.

“What the… I thought I heard your voice, but… Mr. Malfoy? What the hell is… going… on…” 

He trails off as my father turns on him. Oh no, no, not him too, but… My father doesn’t curse him. The next moment, in fact, it’s not my father at all. The imposing figure of Lucius vanishes with a crack. In his place now floats a large, billowing creature. Rattling breaths echo in my ringing ears, and the temperature drops significantly. 

Harry’s eyes are huge in shock. After a moment they narrow in comprehension, but look no less surprised despite even that. Slowly, as if hardly daring to believe the reality of the situation, Harry raises his wand.  _ “Riddikulus,” _ he says softly. The Dementor stumbles, then vanishes in a puff of smoke. I continue to stare, transfixed, where it had vanished, long after the room’s old warmth had returned.

“Draco…?” Harry finally starts, hesitantly, as if one wrong move could make the air shatter. 

“...Yeah?” My voice is higher than normal. 

“That was a boggart.”

“...Indeed,” and it’s like in that moment the reality of it sets in fully, and no amount of denial can stave it off any longer. I collapse into a desk, gaze vacant.

“Draco?” 

“Yeah?”

“That was your father.” 

And more than anything else, it’s the look he’s sending me now that I can’t stand. The small frown setting in his face, pity pinching the corners of his eyes together, the concerned step he takes towards me, uncertainly. It’s unbearable. I can’t look at him. I squeeze my eyes shut, squeeze my forehead with my hands as if I can somehow squash that moment out.

“...Yeah,” I mutter, after I can’t take the silence any longer. “I know.”

I can’t help but feel a guilty twinge of gratitude for Harry having dealt with his own share of trauma. He doesn’t try to sugarcoat the moment. He doesn’t coo over me, or simper that everything will be okay, or change the subject. He just waits. Eventually steps closer and lays a hand on my shoulder. The slight touch is comforting without being so coddling that I go into a defensive mindset. It’s absolutely perfect. It’s moments like these where I feel myself fall harder and harder. That inexplicable and silent understanding, that I’ve only ever found in him… I doubt I could let go of that at this point.

Which just makes the future all the more terrifying. Because my worst fear most probably will come into fruition, and I’ll have to lose him.

I don’t know how long has passed when I finally manage to stop shaking; not crying though, because I never started. I held that back. At any rate, some time after my back finally stills, Harry deems it long enough to speak. His voice is quiet, tentative.  


“You said things were getting better. You know, with your dad.”

“...They are,” I mutter. Suddenly I can’t stay still another second, I jolt upright and pace, brows furrowed, arms gesturing wildly as they often do when I talk. “Really! It’s not as if I was lying to you or something. They are. Really. That was… An irrational thought. Ridiculous. He wouldn’t…” 

_...Right? _

And there’s that nagging voice still lingering in my mind, who can’t forget the old neglect it endured. Stupid. So, so stupid.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Harry sit on top of a desk. He seems at a loss for words. There’s another agonizing, extended silence. I’m on the edge of just changing the subject when he speaks again.

“Have you told your parents about us?” he asks, catching my hand as I stride past him. 

“Obviously not!” I try to tug my hand free on principle, but he holds on, steadfast, and rolls his eyes at me. I huff but continue, unable to resist relaxing slightly under his fingers gentle pressure. “There’s no way I could possibly. Maybe they’d accept a half-blood, but a man? I’m supposed to shoot out some grandchildren for them.” I make a frustrated noise, tugging my hair with my free hand. “Not to mention you’re… Well… you.”

Harry stays quiet, looking out the window with a determined expression of feigned composure. His face is significantly redder since I mentioned children. We’ve only been dating for three months, after all. It’s not the typical thing two eighteen year old’s talk about, but Harry Potter and I have always been exceptionally atypical. 

“If kids are the issue… why not a surrogate?” he says, the awkwardness palpable in his voice.

“A what?”

“Well, your parents would want you to pass on their genes, or whatever, so adoption wouldn’t really work, but a surrogate would be perfect. We could probably even find a pureblood to agree to it, really, would that--”

“ _ What _ exactly are you talking about?” I snap, when I lose patience with his incomprehensible train of thought. “What’s a surrogate? Surely there isn’t some magic I’m unaware of to instantly fix this.”

“No, it’s not magic!” assures Harry. He looks faintly amused now. “Of course you haven’t heard of it, I guess wizards don’t have things like that. Er… I don’t really know much about it myself, but basically, Muggles have this thing where, um, people can volunteer to carry children for those who can’t naturally have them. Like, they implant your seed in some science way or something, and… Yeah.” He trails off uncertainly, his face becoming more vividly colored with every word. My attention is fully fixated on him now, with a kind of desperate hope as I try to understand.

“So then…” I murmur, trying to gather the fresh jumble of information. “You can get a woman pregnant? Without even having to touch her?” My little gay heart leaps hopefully.

“Basically, yeah.”

“Damn,” I say, suppressing my elation so I only sound grudgingly impressed. “The things Muggles think up. Crazy.” And it’s not even a prospect, really, having children via some strange muggle ritual may be even worse in my parents’ eyes than no children at all, but even with this in mind I can’t help the grin that’s spreading across my face at the thought. A kid, one that’s partly me, that I can raise with Harry… The idea is ridiculously uplifting. 

“Yeah,” says Harry with a shrug, but he’s starting to smile too, and finally is willing to meet my eye again. His vivid green eyes gleam. “Just an idea, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First things first, yeah?”

“And what would be the first thing, then?” I ask, already stepping towards the door. 

“Well, I was hoping to start with a nice make out session, if that would be fine.” 

“That would be just delightful,” I all but purr. Upon closing the door and locking it securely, I turn, and lose myself in him.

**Author's Note:**

> please comment and tell me what you thought!! i'm not even exaggerating when i say that feedback makes my day ^^


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